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Emilio saw her looking. ‘The bedroom is back there.’
The bedroom—as in, singular. After an entire day spent in close proximity to Emilio, after kissing him and drowning in that kiss, if they shared a bed Jasmine wasn’t sure that she would be able to fight this thing between them.
She needed to sit alone, or she needed to leave.
***
Emilio could see a mess of thoughts in Jasmine’s eyes. It was why he’d kept hold of her hand. He didn’t know how she would react to such a show of his wealth. If she would want to flee.
As soon as the doors closed, she pulled her hand from his and moved to one of the single seats towards the front of the plane which forced James, his trusted driver, to sit all the way at the rear. Like a sentry at the bedroom door. She was still trying exceptionally hard to maintain their distance, then. Of course, if that was what she wanted, he would respect it. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
He settled into the seat closest to hers, swivelling them both so that he could see her. Waited for her to voice her thoughts.
‘I don’t see why we need to go on a honeymoon,’ she finally said. ‘Why are we even bothering? The wedding is over; we’re married. Everyone in New York knows I’m Jasmine De Luca now. We live together. I don’t see why we need to play this game any more when we could just go about our lives.’
‘You’re right, everyone knows we’re married. And the expectation is that newlyweds would have a honeymoon. It would be particularly strange forusnot to have one.’
‘I’m not buying it, Emilio. We’re both busy people; it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that we would be too busy to have one. So what’s the real reason?’
The real reason was that Emilio needed to visit the vineyards. He needed to deal with his mother’s will. And he wasn’t going to leave his pregnant wife alone while he did so. He didn’t know exactly when his father’s indifference for him had started but, having seen the way his parents lived, he was sure his father would not have been attentive to his mother during her pregnancy.
He’d still been young when he’d noticed how separate their lives were. Nobody had ever acknowledged it—he wasn’t sure his brother had even realised it—but once Emilio had spotted the divide it had been obvious. His father hadn’t allowed thecontessainto the affairs of Perlano. She’d had no say in De Luca and Co, despite how much she’d loved the vineyards. She’d never gone to his father with any matters concerning her own businesses. She’d insisted they ate together as family, but that had come aboutbecauseit was the only time they were a family.
Even then, Emilio’s father had barely looked at him.
The life Jasmine had laid out for them, the rules he had agreed to, meant there would be so much distance between them too. They would be leading separate lives. Just like his parents.
Emilio wanted to be a better man, be everything his father wasn’t. And, even though there was no love in this marriage, there was respect, there was attraction. Jasmine was his wife. And he would do everything in his power to make up for that distance between them.
Which meant he had to start being open with her, where he could.
‘We’re going to Perlano.’
Jasmine didn’t say anything for a moment. A crease formed between her eyebrows, and he knew she was trying to piece things together. It would be interesting to see what she came up with.
‘You said this baby is a De Luca heir. Are you taking me there to show me what they’ll inherit? Because I already know about the estate.’
Emilio gave a bitter laugh. ‘How much research did you do on me?’
‘Enough.’
‘You don’t know anything, Jasmine,’ he said gently.
‘Then tell me. I want us to be honest. I want us to know each other better. We’re going to be a family. We can make life or death decisions for each other; surely, we need honesty and trust?’
Emilio took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. And you’re partly correct about Perlano. I was born there. My father was Conte di Perlano. He died eight years ago, and the title and estate were passed down to my brother.’
‘Enzo.’
Emilio nodded.
‘Our family legacy is hundreds of years old. The companies, estates, and wealth all belong to theconte.’
‘Wait,’ Jasmine said, sounding shocked. ‘Are you telling me you get nothing?’
‘Yes. That is, until recently.’
‘What happened?’